Waiting
by fadedglass
Summary: 'Because every day you grew less and less optimistic. Maybe it's not the time. Maybe it's you.'  Just a oneshot with Will/Emma.  hints of Season 2 .


She hadn't come to you.

You noticed this on a frosted morning of November. Eyes sullen, voice cracked. Unspoken; you knew what was wrong. You hadn't seen a red car swing by in a while and you had begun to doubt you ever would again. You wanted to comfort her, wrap your arms around her and cocoon her in your love, tell her you were still here for her but you didn't. She needed time. You still needed time.

...

Denying you had been unhappy for weeks would be lying. Denying that the probability of moving on would be to. You had come close, just once, even shared a kiss with her in the dreary drizzle of rain but it wasn't love. There wasn't that fire.

Emma was your fire.

...

You walked to her office one morning. The solemn sun just beginning to rise for a new day as you paced quick footed down the eerie corridors, hoping that she was there. She's wasn't. You left the piece of paper on her desk instead.

'I'm here when you're ready'.

You buried your head in sheet music and softly sung melodies for the rest of the afternoon, swooning over old fashioned love songs that made that knot in your heart that bit tighter. Come the end of the day she still hadn't come. You wondered if she saw the note.

She did.

And still she hadn't come.

...

A week and still no word. You had begun to go crazy as you ran through blades of grass mined with dogs ready to pounce and implode. You'd been coming here more often you realised. The soft churning of grass against your heavy footing and the inviting water had enchanted you as the moon watched you from afar. You had felt safe here.

That was until tonight.

Alone with your thoughts you gazed to the golden dusted sky, the water rippling beneath your feet as you poured your soul to them. They learnt your heart. They learnt your secrets.

And then you began to cry.

...

You convinced yourself half heartedly that she still needed time as you crept beneath but never above the shadows. You felt dark and blue, not worthy of the sunlight that prospers a new day of optimism and prosperity. Because every day you grew less and less optimistic.

Maybe it's not the time. Maybe it's you.

...

Your hunger grew inside, threatening to explode if you didn't do something soon. This is torture you told yourself. _Then why are you doing this? _You planned and rehearsed what to say.

Tomorrow. You would stop this tomorrow.

...

The final bell of the day went, your body becoming lost in crowds of youth and spirit. They ran through the halls; laughing and joking with a skip to their step while you focussed on walking straight with meaning and purpose. When did you lose your skip?

You stopped just before the glass doors, your head exploring the barrier between your desire and fear.

She was there.

You were scared.

You knocked. Not loudly, just enough to draw her attention from the pile of papers resting mockingly in front of her. You shyly smiled, unsure of what to do with your mouth. _You're losing your nerve. _She looked better than she did a week ago, her body rebuilt from the wreckage. She thumbed the edge of the desk, her eyes drifting from one object to the next, her hands reaching out to straighten the stapler that hung precariously close to the edge. She was nervous. You felt sick.

'Hi' she whispered, the softness floating delicately through the open space between you and for a second you forgot why you came. Forgetting that anything but she had ever existed, no song had been sung, no lyrics had been written.

You finally found the air to say hi back, and before you know it you had apologised for coming as your legs buckled beneath the table; weak and unstable. She reached a hand across to you, her touch gentle. Before you registered your next words she moved closer.

Your noses touched first.

Your hands second.

Your lips third.

It was hesitant (at first), the familiarity of those blissful few weeks rushing through your trembling lip as you remembered what it was like to hold her. You felt her pulse through your joint hands. Its irregular (you remember thinking).Yours was too. Your arm found her waist as you drew her closer, the space between your bodies becoming less and less distant. You wanted to become one, to never breath or see or hear without her again but you had to pull away otherwise the little air left in your lungs would disappear.

'Thank you' she mouthed, her eyes shielded by emotion as you kissed her cheek, 'for waiting'.

Without words you showed her your gratitude, your hands delicately dancing along her arm, her skin soft as silk as you grasped hold of her cheek under your quivering fingertips.

'No thank you'.

...

You exchanged blue hearts late Friday night. She had cried on your anguished couch, her heart wrenched with tears as she told you what happened. It came out again; the three letters that chained her to the past; OCD. She explained that Carl had it too, less severe but just as demanding and you sat, watching her crumble, vowing to make her life as clean as possible.

...

You were a little uneasy sat in this supposedly 'relaxing chair' as your bones tensed up. The woman sharp faced and pointy fired words at you, which, like a minefield, exploded in your face. She offered you a smile, though it came out as more of a grimace as you reached for your only comfort; her hand easing your panic.

You came because of her. Normally you hated talking about yourself but with her next to you, you felt its worthwhile. This woman, her therapist, suggested this a week ago, offered her the chance for someone important (you had smiled at the word) in her life to come with her and how could he of refused? He would do anything for her.

You left the centre in uplifting spirits, hands woven forever as you shared a kiss beneath the flickering artificial light of a nearby street lamp. Your love was anything but artificial.

...

You were scared. Untimely walks and jittery hands spoke louder than words as the tense tiles clattered beneath your feet. You had been so terrified; worried that something would go wrong that now the time had come you doubted you could do this.

You heard her.

Saw her.

My angel. She had floated into the room, coyly and gracefully that made your heart leap far beyond your chest.

'Make love to me Will'.

Goosebumps pricked at your skin, piercing as you reached out your hand, holding hers, pulling her closer.

'I love you Em'.

'I love you too'.

You made love as the flames danced around you, the stars, shielded but not forgotten by the cracks in the blinds effortlessly gliding through the veil of darkness as you became one for the first time. No more ex lovers rose from the ashes of your pasts as you became lost in the moment, two lovers reunited at the end of a long road.

You were glad you had waited.

You were glad you had waited for her.


End file.
